


Recovery In Room 233

by eshcaine



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Falling In Love, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Homophobic Language, Hospitalization, M/M, Past Violence, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-18
Updated: 2014-08-18
Packaged: 2018-02-13 16:22:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2157252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eshcaine/pseuds/eshcaine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam is in the hospital and a bored fidgety Dean means trouble for the nursing staff. Luckily, Balthazar has something that will keep Dean occupied.....</p>
            </blockquote>





	Recovery In Room 233

**Author's Note:**

> *proof read by me. all mistakes and typos are mine. enter at your own risk.

~*~

 

Dean wasn’t a fan of hospitals. It wasn’t so much the whole ‘remind him of his mortality’ thing or that he thought they were creepy or that he was afraid that everyone who went into a hospital died. Dean just didn’t like them because of the smell. The mix of disinfectant and sterilized surfaces gave off a scent that just bugged Dean on some level. Maybe it was because it was something so far from a homey scent, or so opposite something natural smelling, that it just rubbed him the wrong way.

Anytime he had to come to a hospital the smell made Dean fidget. He couldn’t sit still or relax. He had to pace or wander. So it was no surprise when he had to bring Sam in to have his tonsils taken out, that Dean would spend a lot of time roaming around the hospital Sam had been admitted in.

Like now, as he waited for Sam to wake up from the surgery, Dean was supposed to hang out in the lounge on the floor Sam was on. To his credit, he stayed there for a full fifteen minutes before he poked his head out through the heavy door to the waiting room. He surveyed the corridor and spied the nurse’s station.

“Oh yea, first stop, hot nurses….” Dean grinned as he sauntered over to the chest high counter.

There were two nurses on duty. The first was a middle-aged woman who was busy doing paperwork. Dean gave her the once over, considering if she’d be fun to flirt with. She was probably about ten years older and her overall demeanor said she didn’t take any crap from anyone. But Dean liked her dark hair, and her dark eyes and her dark skin, and he liked that she looked as if she could run him off with a well-placed quirk of her eyebrow. So he shuffled his shoulder’s straight and put on his most stunning smile.

Dean leaned on the counter to talk to the dark beauty, “So, what’s fun to do around here?”

The nurse gave him that singular raised brow that Dean was hoping for, the one that said he better step back or lose a vital organ. But just as he was about to say more, the other nurse at the station, a tall blond man who was fit yet somehow still elegant in his nurse scrubs, reached out to gently tap Dean’s arm.

“I wouldn’t do that,” The male nurse gave a polite smile, “One mustn’t rattle a lioness’ cage before she’s been fed.”

Dean opened his mouth to give a sarcastic comeback about giving her something meaty to chew on when the male nurse took a firmer hold on Dean’s shirtsleeve and tugged him away.

“You’re much too young to die…” The male nurse tutted then looked Dean over closer, “Hmmm. You’re the brother of the young fellow in 232. Winchester, yes?”

“Uh, yea… I’m Dean….” Dean glanced at the nurse’s nametag, “Uh Balthazar is it? Yea my brother Sammy is in here….”

“And you’re dreadfully bored and looking for some way to pass the time until Sam awakens. Yes I see.” The whole time Balthazar had been slowly guiding Dean away from the nursing station and down the hall.

Dean was fairly sure he was taking Dean to Sam’s room, when they bypassed it and stepped up to the room across the hall.

“Listen Dean, I know you are all squirrely and that the waiting area is quite frankly, abysmal. The TV doesn’t work and the magazines were new in 1998.” Balthazar let out a weary sigh, “And I know you want to be here when Sam wakes, so asking you to simply leave is out of the question…..”

Balthazar then tipped open the door to the room across the hall from Sam. Inside was one bed. On it was a person still and silent. The room was a bit less hospital and a lot more cozy. A regular chair made of wood and cushioned with pillows sat by the bed. The curtains were not the usual vertical plastic blinds, but actual fabric. And a quilt was spread over the person’s torso and legs.

Dean leaned in, his curiosity piqued. It still smelled like a hospital in the room, but there were flowers by the bed and a regular lamp. He could see now that the person’s head was wrapped in gauze, as was most of their body.

Balthazar lowered his voice, “Dean, this is my first cousin, Castiel. He was in an accident, fell into a reservoir, suffered a concussion severe enough that he nearly drown. He’s been in a coma this whole time.”

Dean bit his lip and frowned, “What’s with all the bandages?”

“Bacterial infection from the water. Quite nasty. The water was polluted with a lot of black gunk.” Balthazar gestured to a bookcase that was along the wall near the entry door to the room. “Dean, I would consider it a great favour to me if you would stay with Castiel while I make my rounds. There are books you can read… just sit in the chair and keep him company until I come back.”

Dean took a hesitant step into the room, “He won’t mind? I mean, he’s like, not able to voice whether he’d want people he doesn’t know here….”

“It does him more good than harm Dean, believe me. Having another person around, even if they are just sitting there saying nothing can be beneficial to his recovery.” Balthazar propped open the door, “Look, if you sit in the chair there and I leave this door open…. And then leave open Sam’s door…. You can see your brother directly. If Sam wakens, just go stay with Sam.”

Dean hesitated a moment and then nodded. “Yea okay. I can do that.”

“Lovely. Thank you.” Balthazar’s smile was genuine and relieved. “I shouldn’t be more than an hour at most.” He turned then and walked across the hall to prop open Sam’s door. Then with a small nod he headed back to the nursing station.

Dean weaved a little on his feet. Across the hall, Sam was out like a light, tucked into his bed, a bandage on his throat. Sam’s lanky body looked cozy under the thick blanket on his bed.

Dean quietly stepped over to the bookcase and began to peruse. It was filled with Shakespeare, Moliere, Voltaire and Vonnegut. There were books by Asimov and Heinlein, Douglas and Tolkien as well as Bradbury. Dean thumbed over the Vonnegut and saw they were both ones he had already read recently. He passed those over to pull out the book by Voltaire, ‘Candide’. Dean stood up and thumbed through it, but seeing it was entirely in French he put it back on the shelf. He pulled out ‘The Fellowship of the Ring” next and with a smile, wandered over to the chair beside the bed.

He settled down in the chair and gave a satisfied nod when he found it was quite comfortable. Dean stretched out his legs, opened the book and began to read.

By the time he got to the parts with Tom Bombadil in it, Dean was starting to get hungry. He checked his watch and discovered that he’d been there for several hours without Balthazar returning. With a sigh he took note of the page number he was on, then closed the book. There was a nightstand beside the bed near the chair he was in, and he reached over to place the book down. He laid it on top of another book there and stood up.

As he stretched, he saw that Sam was still unconscious so he turned his gaze to the man in the bed beside him.

The man looked pretty solid under his tightly wound bandages with broad shoulders almost as wide as Dean’s, an expanse of chest that looked lean under the hospital gown he had on, and muscled arms and biceps. They guy looked like he was used to running and swimming, his form sculpted more from action outdoors than in a gym. The only skin Dean could see however, were the man’s knuckles and fingers, and the man’s lips and chin. Dark hair shucked out of the top of the bandages on the man’s head, but his eyes were wrapped and hidden.

Dean leaned a little closer, inching in with two fingers to lift up the bandages over the man’s nose and eyes just to get a peek when someone in the room cleared their throat.

Caught, Dean stood up quickly and gave a sheepish smile. “Heh, sorry…. Just ah, curious y’know…”

The woman standing in the room was another nurse. She was curvy, with dark skin, hair and eyes, and a sweet rosy cast to her cheeks. She gave Dean a bit of a smirk and then pointed to her badge.

“You see what this says son?” Her voice was no nonsense, but had a Southern kindness underlying it.

Dean took a step closer and read the badge out loud, “Missouri Mosley, Head Nurse, RN…” Dean tried to smile wider as he looked directly into her dark eyes.

“It means I’m not taking any of your shit Winchester.” She put her hands on her hips.

“Hey how do you know….” Dean began to protest.

Missouri held up one hand, “Halt. Just stop. I just want you to understand who you’re talkin’ to.”

“Um, yes Ma’am…” Dean nodded.

“Now, Balthazar told me he put you in here to keep you out of trouble.” A little sly smile caught the edge of her mouth, “And that’s fine. You’re welcome to sit in here and read to Mr. Novak while you’re waitin’ on Sam to be discharged. But there are some rules you gotta follow while you are in here….”

“Wait,” Dean frowned, “Read to this guy? Balthazar didn’t say I was supposed to read to his cousin, just that I could sit in here and…”

“Did he now?” Missouri took in a long slow breath and Dean could see annoyance simmering under the surface. “First of all Mr. Winchester, Balthazar is not Mr. Novak’s cousin. Mr. Novak does not have any family that we know of. Secondly, if you are going to be in this room, you can’t just be sitting there…. You’ve got to interact with Mr. Novak. Anything else is just rude.”

Dean planted his hands on his hips. “Well how would he know? He’s in a coma.”

Missouri rolled her eyes and walked over to stand beside Castiel’s bed. “Good evening Mr. Novak, how are we today?” As she spoke, easy and normal, she gestured to Castiel’s exposed fingers.

The index finger on Castiel’s right hand lifted, held still, then straightened once before he relaxed it again.

Missouri nodded as if she understood, she turned to Dean and said, “He can hear us Mr. Winchester. He’s curious as to what is going on.”

Dean looked confused, “So he’s not in a coma?”

“He was. At the moment he’s unable to speak and the only part he can move are his fingers. He drifts in and out of consciousness, but when you are in here, it’s best to treat him as if he’s in the room….. wouldn’t you say?” Missouri gave a small tight smile at Dean’s look of mortification.

She turned back to Castiel, “Mr. Novak, I am gonna get this boy something to eat and then I’ll be back with the other nurses to bathe you and change your sheets.”

The finger that had moved before tapped three times and then went still.

Missouri went to Dean’s side then and curled her arm around his as she pulled him gently out of the room. “That’s his ‘hurry back’ or ‘hurry up’ signal.”

As they went into the hallway she shut the door behind her, then she continued on, bringing Dean into Sam’s room. The entire way, Dean craned his head around to try to look back at Castiel. He was overwhelmed with curiosity.

“Just sit tight here son,” Missouri let go of Dean and pointed to the chair beside Sam’s bed. “I’ll have someone bring you something to eat and then you can take your pick…. Watch Sam sleep or go back and read to Mr. Novak.” She didn’t wait for Dean’s answer and shut the door to Sam’s room as she left.

Dean paced a little. So Balthazar had lied to get Dean away from the nurse’s station. But that didn’t matter now. Now Dean had a real live mystery lying in the bed across the hall and he wanted to unravel it. He sat down in the chair by Sam’s bed and even though Sam was knocked out, Dean began to tell Sam all about it.

 

 

 

~*~

 

 

 

The hospital food wasn’t as bad as Dean expected, Sam drooled a bit while he slept, and it felt like forever before Missouri came back to tell him it was okay if he went back into Mr. Novak’s room. He told Sam good night before he left, and that if Sam needed him, he was just across the hall. Sam didn’t move and Dean paused to take a picture with his phone of Sam drooling to save for later.

Then Dean was back in Mr. Novak’s room, once again with the door open so he could see Sam.

Suddenly Dean felt a little nervous and he wiped his hands against the side of his jeans, “Uh… hey… Mr. Novak…. mind if I come in?”

Castiel clenched his fingers down and extended his thumb. If he had raised his hand it would have been a ‘thumbs up’ gesture.

“Awesome…” Dean smiled and went back to sit in the chair by Castiel’s bed. “So ugh, I was reading the Lord of the Rings and….”

Castiel’s index finger and his middle finger tapped the bed repeatedly several times as if in irritation.

“Um, you don’t want me reading that book?” Dean looked perplexed.

Castiel’s fingers made the motion again, as aggressively as possible.

Dean bit his lip a little in frustration. This was going to be a challenge. “Okay when you do that with your fingers are you telling me ‘no’?”

The fingers stayed still.

Dean thought for a moment, then he sat on the edge of his seat. “Okay I’ve got an idea. You give me the thumbs up for ‘yes’ or for when I’m asking the right thing and we’ll go from there.”

Castiel gave him his own style of thumbs up.

“Awesome.” Dean couldn’t help the big smile growing on his face now. “Okay, the other thing you did with your fingers, the two fingers together tapping on the bed…. That means you aren’t happy about something, right?”

Again the thumbs up.

“Okay…. So were you unhappy I was reading that book?” Dean leaned his elbows on his knees as he sat.

Castiel’s fingers remained still.

Puzzled, Dean sat up. If it wasn’t the book Mr. Novak was unhappy with and he was okay that Dean was in the room, Dean wasn’t sure what the problem was. “Well… if it’s not that…. I’m trying to think here…. Not sure what to ask you now Mr. Novak.”

More repeated tapping of the two fingers the second Dean had said “Mr. Novak”

“Oh, you don’t want me to call you Mr. Novak?” Dean’s eyes brightened.

The thumbs up came swiftly.

Dean let out a little laugh, “Oh hey yea, sure. Castiel right?”

The thumbs up happened twice in quick succession.

“Well great. I’m Dean. Nice to meet you.” Dean reached over and placed two fingers between Castiel’s index finger and his middle finger on Castiel’s left hand. They pinched around Dean’s fingers and lifted up and down as best as they could in a simulation of a handshake.

Dean withdrew his hand and reached for ‘The Fellowship of the Ring’, “So you ready for me to read to you Castiel?”

The thumbs up again.

Dean sat back in the chair and opened the book from the start. “Chapter 1: A Long-Expected Party……. When Mr. Bilbo Baggins of Bag End announced that he would shortly be celebrating his eleventy-first birthday with a party of special magnificence, there was much talk and excitement in Hobbiton……”

 

 

 

~*~

 

 

 

Dean read until he started getting horse and when Castiel began to fall asleep Dean said his good nights then went across the hall to check on Sam. On his way out the on duty nurse said that Sam would be awake in the morning and Dean was welcome back then.

Dean left the hospital, drove home to his and Sam’s apartment and didn’t waste any time crawling in bed to get to sleep.

The following day was Saturday, and Dean didn’t have to be back at Singer Salvage and Auto to work until Monday. When Dean was up early with the dawn Saturday morning he packed two sandwiches and a thermos of coffee, and then nearly broke the land speed record in his Baby getting back to the hospital.

Sam was awake and cheerful, and to Dean’s impish delight, quite mute at the moment. After a few minutes of teasing, including parading the picture of Sam drooling in front of all the nurses, Dean then turned his charm on to the staff and managed to get a wheel chair. Dean then loaded all of Sam’s 100 feet of lanky legs into it and they went across the hall to see Castiel.

Saturday went by with Dean reading ‘The Fellowship of the Ring’ aloud to Castiel and Sam, and the staff coming and going as they needed for their duties.

Sam ran a bit of temperature, and the nurses were wary of infection, so Sam stayed for another night. Like the night before, Dean hung around until Sam and Castiel were both dropping off to sleep. Only then did Dean leave the hospital to go home to shower and go to bed.

Sunday was more of the same. Sam and Dean spent the day in Castiel’s room as Dean read aloud and Sam slowly croaked back into his voice.

Dean learned that when Castiel made odd hiccupping sounds in his throat and chest, he wasn’t having a seizure he was just laughing. Sam figured out that when Castiel hooked his index finger over his middle finger it meant Cas was excited. The two fingers tapping fast meant ‘no’ or ‘stop’ or ‘I don’t like that’. Three taps with one finger was ‘hurry up’ or ‘don’t keep me waiting’. And Castiel would show surprise when all his fingers would extend straight out at once.

By the time Sunday night rolled around, Dean was for the first time in a long while sort of dreading going into work. He would have rather spent the day at the hospital and Monday after work found Dean bypassing home to go directly back to Sam’s room, then to Castiel’s.

 

 

 

~*~

 

 

 

Tuesday came.

Sam's infection was long gone and he was being discharged.

As Sam packed up his things, Dean hovered at the door, looking across the hall at Castiel’s closed door. The nurses were in there now, doing whatever it was they needed to do to keep Castiel alive, to help him heal.

But still Dean fidgeted.

“Dean?” Sam’s voice wasn’t fully back yet, but it was getting there.

“Yea Sammy…?” Dean settled and went to Sam’s side, hoisting up Sam’s overnight bag.

Sam glanced out his door to Castiel’s, “You could probably come back after work you know, and read to him some more.”

Dean nodded and then looked at his brother, “You think?”

“Yea sure, why not?” Sam’s shoulders relaxed and his dimples came out as he smiled more, “You can’t leave the guy hangin’ man…. Frodo just got to Rivendell.”

Dean chuckled but it died off as Balthazar came in to help Sam check out, a stack of paperwork in his hands.

“Well well…. All ready to go?” Balthazar smiled.

Dean narrowed his eyes as he looked at the tall blond nurse, “You lied to me…”

“Yes yes, so what? Life is cruel, then we die.” Balthazar rolled his eyes and handed Sam the paperwork, along with a pen. But then his demeanor shifted and he looked somberly at Dean, “I’m not sorry I got you in there under false pretenses. And I won’t apologize for keeping you out from under the rest of the staff’s feet. Castiel Novak is a charming delightful soul who has no one in the world to visit him but we busy harried overly tired nurses. Can you not see why I did what I did?”

Dean let out the indignant breath his was holding and his shoulders lost their edge. “Yea yea yea fine. But can I come back and keeping reading to him?” His eyes flashed then, almost challenging Balthazar to say no.

Balthazar gathered up Sam’s paper work and with a mischievous look in his eye said, “I would never stand in the way of true love. Of course you can come back.”

Sam blurted out a laugh, then winced at the mild pain still lingering in his throat. Dean glared and sputtered but Balthazar simply escorted Sam out into the hall.

“You can go in and see Castiel now, I’ll wheel Sam down to the lobby. Don’t be long…” Balthazar sat Sam down into a wheel chair and then they both headed down the hall.

Dean watched them a moment before he shuffled over to Castiel’s door. He rapped a little on it as he opened it and leaned his head in. “Hey Castiel? It’s Dean, can I come in?”

Castiel gave him the thumbs up.

Smiling Dean came into the room and stood beside Castiel’s bed, “Hey buddy. Listen, Sam is checking out…. He’s going home today.”

Another thumbs up, but then a quick tap tap tap with the two fingers.

“Happy he’s getting out of here but you don’t want him to go huh?” Dean’s smile softened. When Dean had been at work, he found out that Sam would just come in and sit with Castiel. Sam couldn’t speak much, but they had spent time together.

“You won’t miss him for long. He’s graduating in a month from high school, so he’ll be in to see you when I’m at work.” Dean fingers pulled at the edge of his plaid shirt. For some reason he felt compelled to reach over and touch Castiel’s hand. They hadn’t made much physical contact yet beyond their brief touch on that first day. Dean had been too unsure of Cas' boundaries. He wasn't sure if it was allowed.

“Look, I need to get Sam home, get him settled in.” Dean took in a deep breath and extended his fingers towards Castiel’s hand. “I’ll be back to see you after I get out of work tomorrow, and then I’ll read to you a little more. Okay?”

The thumbs up came up and stayed. Then, ever so slightly, Castiel’s hand tipped up just a fraction, arching his thumb up more. Dean hadn’t seen this much motion from Castiel before.

“Oh my god Cas! You moved your hand more…” Dean beamed and his own hand swiftly closed the distance to curl around Castiel’s, his fingers wrapping around Castiel’s extended thumb lightly. Dean gave Cas a celebratory squeeze of his hand, and Castiel’s thumb came down to press against Dean’s knuckle.

“Well hell Cas, at this rate you’ll be up outta that bed in no time!” Dean chuckled, letting his hand linger.

Cas’s thumb relaxed and his hand slumped, as if the action had taken all of Castiel’s strength. Dean gave another light squeeze and then let his hand slip back away. His skin felt so warm where Cas had touched him, and he tucked his hand deep into a pocket as if to keep that feeling from evaporating.

“Well, good night Cas.” Dean stepped back a bit, “See ya tomorrow.”

Three weak taps came from Castiel’s index finger and then he was still.

Dean ducked out of the room and into the corridor. He blinked the moisture that had crept up into his eyes away and pressed the heel of his hand to one eye. He suddenly felt stupid and crazy for being so emotional over such a small thing. Dean took in a deep breath and then hustled down to the lobby to find Sam.

 

 

 

~*~

 

 

 

A week turned into a month, and everyday after work Dean came and sat beside Castiel. They got through ‘The Lord of the Rings’, with Dean complaining every chance he got about what the movies had left out, but then a few times he let it slip about how awesome he though Aragorn was.

Castiel discovered that Dean had a habit of pausing during his reading to frequently go off on tangents, usually about something that had happened to he and Sam as they were growing up. This is the way Castiel learned about Dean’s mother’s death when Dean was four, about his father’s spiral into depression and how John had raised the boys on the road in search of some mystery killer. How John seemed to think Mary’s death wasn’t an accident.

Castiel also learned that when Sam was fifteen he had put his foot down about staying in one place so he could go to high school, and for once Dean had backed Sam up. So now Dean worked, and Sam went to school, and they lived in a tiny apartment over a liquor store while John disappeared for weeks on end.

It was during moments of Dean telling him these personal things, Dean’s voice low and quiet in the room, that Castiel felt fortunate. He had never known poverty, had never had to struggle to make money to feed himself or a family member. His father had been loving, devoted. Kind. Castiel had grown up in a big family with numerous brothers and several sisters, some blood, some adopted. And while Castiel’s mother had been strict and regimented, she did genuinely want her children to be happy.

As Castiel listened to Dean’s voice, he realized that his parent’s love had probably been their greatest weakness. His father too lenient, too bent on allowing them their free will while their mother tried to impress on them honor and duty. And now they were gone, and Castiel’s brothers and sisters either scattered to the corners of the world or just plain dead. And here he was, a prisoner in his own currently useless body.

How far they all had fallen now.

Castiel refocused on Dean’s voice once more. Dean had opened the book and was reading the part about the battle at Helm’s Deep. Dean’s voice rose and fell, adding sound effects…. the explosion at the wall, the arrows singing through the air, the wet thunk that Gimli’s axe would make as it cleaved into orc flesh.

When Castiel felt a slight bump to the bed it startled him, and he realized that Dean was so carried away in the story that he was moving about, probably gesturing with a hand or an arm.

Suddenly Castiel was overwhelmed with the need to know what Dean looked like. Dean was in the middle of reading the part where the Uruk-hai were about to blow a hole in the wall and his voice was very excited, but Castiel didn’t care. This couldn’t wait.

Castiel began to tap hard and fast with his two fingers on the bed and he didn’t stop.

“Whoa whoa whoa Cas….” Dean had stilled at this abrupt interruption, “What’s wrong? Are you in pain?”

Castiel tapped out “No no”

Dean had been standing up, and he let his hands drop to his sides. “What’s the matter then? Aren’t you enjoying the story?”

Castiel gave his thumbs up.

“Well if the story is okay… something else is wrong?” Dean queried and slowly sat down on the edge of the chair.

Castiel held still a moment, then he tilted his hand up as much as he was able and crooked his finger. He made a “Come here” motion.

Dean swallowed and set the book aside on the nightstand. He stood up and walked around to the side of the bed closest to the hand that Castiel moved the most, his right hand.

Again Castiel made the “Come here” gesture.

“Um, you… want me to sit on the bed?” Dean’s brows shot up.

Thumbs up from Cas.

Dean eased onto the bed so his rump was pressed against the outside of Castiel’s right calf. He turned so he would be facing Cas, with his own right leg half up on the bed.

Castiel began to pat the sheet under his fingers with as much of his hand as he could, then made the “Come here” sign again.

“I’m not quite understanding what you want me to do Cas.” Dean worried his lip with his teeth a bit, trying to puzzle out what Cas needed him to do.

Finally Castiel seemed to attempt to reach for Dean and Dean slipped his right hand down under Castiel’s. When Castiel clasped their hands together, Castiel’s whole body seemed to completely relax.

Dean smiled and gently rubbed his thumb over the top of Castiel’s knuckles. “Okay so, the ‘come here’ signal means you want me to take your hand…?”

Castiel squeezed Dean’s hand once, but then let go and pressed Dean’s hand down against the bed and smoothed it open. Then as Dean held there, Castiel used the tip of his finger to draw the letter “D” on Dean’s open palm.

“What are you….?” Dean chuckled as Castiel finished writing Dean’s name on the surface of his palm, “Well shit Cas, I should have thought of this sooner!”

Castiel wrote out “Y-e-s” on Dean’s palm.

Then Castiel wrote out “What do you look like?”

Dean grinned even wider, “Well I’m a 60 year old man with big goofy ears and a bald head…. Got a big ol’ beer belly….”

Castiel made a soft huff of air in his throat and he swatted Dean’s palm lightly. Then he wrote out “Not what nurses say”

“I bet. So what do the nurses say?” Dean chuckled. He thought this outta be good. Balthazar probably said Dean was the devil incarnate and Missouri probably told Cas he had horns.

“Lots of things” Castiel wrote. “Not bald. No beer belly”

“No doubt. Bet they said I was a terror.” Dean smirked.

“Yes.” Castiel traced out, “But good looking too.”

Dean cleared his throat and his mouth pulled into a half smile, “Looks are subjective Cas, you know that.”

“Warm green eyes.” Castiel wrote, “Freckles.”

Dean snorted, “Ha! Well that part’s true… uh, the color of my eyes at least. And yea, I’ve got freckles.”

“I like freckles.” Castiel wrote out and then without stopping, “Like your voice too.”

Dean felt himself start to blush a little. “Um, thanks Cas…. You’re being too kind…”

“Love hearing you read.” Castiel added.

Suddenly an idea popped into Dean’s head.

“Hey Cas, if I got you a little keyboard, like the kind where you could feel the raised letters or something…. You think you could type stuff?” Dean tried to hold his hand still for Cas, but that idea had taken hold in his head and now Dean was itching to see it out.

“Maybe?” Cas wrote with his finger.

“Would you be willing to try?” Dean leaned closer to Castiel, the excitement in his voice obvious.

Castiel paused a moment. When he had first regained control of his fingers, he had tried writing with a pencil on paper. But because he couldn’t see what he was writing, it hadn’t been very legible to the nursing staff or his physical therapist. They had then tried some kind of keypad that was hooked up to a computer and machine that would speak for him, but wore him out quickly and at that time he had less control over his fingers.

But that was a year ago. Maybe he was ready now? Castiel very carefully wrote out on Dean’s hand, “Ask nurse about talking machine.”

“Talking machine?” Dean frowned.

“Type makes talk” Castiel wrote out.

Dean smiled and curled his fingers around Castiel’s and gave him a gentle squeeze. “Yea yea yea! That’s a great idea! I’ll do it before I leave tonight.”

Castiel gripped back onto Dean’s hand a firmly as he could now, his own thumb rubbing softly against Dean’s hand. Dean brought his other hand to cover both of theirs and just held it there.

“You’re welcome Cas.”

Dean couldn’t help notice how the inside of his chest bloomed with warmth as he held Cas’ hand like this. Cas was his good friend now, and soon, if possible, they would have real conversations.

Dean couldn’t wait.

 

 

 

~*~

 

 

 

The ‘talking machine’ turned out to be more useful for Castiel than he expected. Not only was it an upgraded model from the one he had tried to make use of previously, but Dean helped him program hotkeys for the keyboard so Castiel could have whole words at the press of a button. Mainly they used this for words Cas used more than others. Dean even figured out a way to have a sound file of things like laughter play at the touch of one of the keys, so Cas didn’t need to type “Ha ha ha” if he found something Dean said to be funny.

In this manner they made the most of their time when Dean would come for his visits after work. They finished reading ‘Lord of the Rings’ but in truth they spent more time talking to each other now.

Dean learned that Castiel had been in the Air Force as a helicopter pilot and that Castiel had come from a large religious family and that it was his inheritance that was paying for all his hospital care.

No matter how much they talked, or how many things Castiel felt comfortable telling Dean, Cas would never discuss the accident that put him there… so Dean stopped asking about it.

Dean did learn that one night when Cas was first admitted to the hospital, he had nearly died because his air way had closed up.

“Are you kidding? What caused it?” Dean had frowned clear through his voice.

“Panic attack.” Castiel typed out and the electronic voice spoke it aloud from the small speaker near Castiel’s head.

“Seriously? What the hell Cas… what made you freak out so bad?” Dean was sitting at the end of the bed, his regular spot now. His back was propped against the footboard with a pillow, and he had adjusted Castiel’s feet to shift to make room. One of Dean’s feet, sans shoe, was gently bopping against Castiel’s hip while his other leg dangled over the edge of the bed.

Castiel typed carefully for a moment before hitting the enter key to send the sentence out to the electronic voice over the speaker, “When they told me my brother Gabriel went missing. He was the last member of my family.”

“Yea you told me about Anna dying in fire…..” Dean let his voice drop into a softer register. “And I know Michael and Luc died during their duty tours….But what happened with Gabriel?”

“He was a playboy, a mischievous trickster. Liked the parties and the high life.” Castiel typed, “He was on a boat for a big party… Hong Kong… boat sank.”

“Jesus Cas…” Dean pressed his foot against Castiel’s hip solidly. “Your family just can’t get a break can they?”

“Something we have in common… sadly.” Castiel typed.

Dean let out a sigh and nodded. He looked down to his hands clasped in his lap. There was no denying that. “Yea.”

Dean started feeling the bed shake a little and he looked up to see both Castiel’s hands tapping quickly against the bed.

“What is it Cas?” Dean sat up, pulling his leg away from Cas so he could scoot up the bed closer. Castiel kept taping hard on the bed. “Cas? Type it out Cas….”

Instead Castiel extended his fingers as much as he could in Dean’s direction. Dean moved up so his hip was pressing against Castiel’s. He reached out and with each of his hands took hold of one of Castiel’s. Castiel squeezed Dean’s hands as hard as could, then he just held tight.

Dean couldn’t help the warm smile that came over his face. And it grew bigger when he saw Castiel’s lip move ever so slightly.

“Two peas in a pod eh Cas?” Dean chuckled, but his voice was laced with emotion.  
  
Castiel made a quick in and out sound in his throat and his bottom lip once more attempted to move. He still kept his hold on Dean’s hands.

“We gotta work on your talking, but man Cas! Feel your grip! You’re getting stronger.” Dean squeezed, and Castiel squeezed back. “You’re going to be wresting me off the bed one of these days.”

Castiel made his odd throat chuff laugh, but Dean felt his cheeks blush and his stomach warm. The image in his head of Castiel getting up out of the bed and wrestling Dean onto his back left Dean’s mind swimming with all kinds of very inappropriate thoughts. Castiel was his dear friend, and an invalid. Thoughts about how Castiel’s mouth might feel on his were way out of line.

Dean gently pulled away and stood up, letting out a small cough to hide his embarrassment. “So Sam’s coming with me tomorrow. He’s gonna freak when he sees you typing and making the voice thing go. I didn’t tell him you had it.”

Castiel made his throat laugh sound again then lifted the hand closest to Dean, asking silently for Dean to come back, to sit beside him again, to hold his hand again. Dean swallowed his nervousness down and returned, taking Castiel’s hand into both of his.

Dean spent the rest of the evening blanching any sexual thoughts right out of his head.

 

 

 

~*~

 

 

 

Summer came, and Sam was able to spend several days during the week with Cas while Dean was at work. Then they would trade. Sam would go to his evening job at the public library, and Dean would come see Castiel.

One evening Dean walked in to see Sam bent over in the chair, laughing so hard he was crying while Castiel’s chest rose and fell with repeated chuffs of deep laughter. Castiel’s hands were fully lifted off the bed, even his wrists. The bed shook lightly with their mirth.

“…he rode a farty donkey…” Sam gasped out and kept laughing, barely able to look at Dean.

“Oh my god, you are not telling Cas the Grand Canyon story….” Dean rolled his eyes and pretended to be annoyed.

Instantly Castiel’s hand turned over and opened, beckoning in Dean’s direction. Cas huffed his laughter still, but then he pulled in a deep breath and a very faint “Dean…” came out.

Sam hiccupped his laugh down and his eyes went wide. And Dean was at Cas’ side in a heartbeat, grasping Castiel’s hand and leaning over the bed towards the man.

“Cas?! Did you just…??” Dean’s eyes were wide and his breath was coming quick.

Sam was standing now, his face beaming with a smile so big it buried his dimples deep into his cheeks. “Holy shit Cas!”

“Dean.” It came out again, soft, quiet. No more than a breath but it was unmistakable. Castiel pulled his hand out of Dean’s and typed “ =) next on to do list“ then let Dean retake his hand.

The joy at Castiel’s triumph swelled up in Dean so strong he had to fight not to lean down and plant a big kiss on Castiel’s mouth. Instead he opted for squeezing Cas’ hand tighter, “This is so awesome Cas….. can you manage Sam’s name?”

Castiel stilled as if he was focusing. He drew in a breath, then pushed out “San.”

“I’ll take it!” Sam laughed.

Dean let a deep chuckle rumble out, “You know I’m only trying to get you to talk so you can harass the nursing staff when I’m not here to do it.”

Castiel pulled his hand away from Dean long enough to type out, “Lies. You will make me read to you from now on.”

“Damn straight I will… and not some little Hobbit book either. No sir. You gotta do the whole Silmarillion…..” Dean’s sank down to sit on the bed next to Castiel.

Castiel pulled in a breath and with his own mouth he huffed out, “Ha.”

The three of them spent the rest of the night trying to see just how many words Castiel could say. They stayed long after visiting hours, and Dean thought it was probably one of the best nights of his life.

 

 

 

~*~

 

 

 

Summer made its way into autumn, and Sam went off to college.

Dean couldn’t stand the empty feeling apartment, and so he would barely be there to sleep and shower. The rest of his time he was at work, or at Castiel’s side. Every Sunday afternoon Dean would call Sam and they would spend half the call just the two of them as Dean sat in the Impala in the hospital parking lot. Then Dean would run upstairs to Castiel’s room, and Dean would put his phone on speaker.

By now, Castiel was able to do short sentences. Some words were easier than others, and came out quick and sure while others gave Castiel trouble. He was able to talk to Sam in simple ‘Yes’ and ‘No’ and other small phrases, but he never ceased trying to push himself further.

One afternoon however, as Sam was talking about coming across some students bullying another student and how he had chased off the bullies, Castiel became very quiet.

Dean merely told Sam that Cas was tired out, and Sam believed it. But sitting there in the room with Cas, Dean could tell that something Sam had said had bothered Castiel deeply. Dean let it go, until he got off the phone with Sam.

Then he pushed Castiel’s hand to the keyboard and sat right there, facing Castiel with a determined look on his face. “Okay what is it Cas?”

“Nothing” Castiel typed quickly.

“Not buying it.” Dean folded his arms across his chest, “Now you have two choices. You can either spill and tell me what’s wrong, or I’m just going to sit here the rest of the night and not speak and only make squishy noises with my mouth.”

Castiel gave no reaction.

When Dean’s attempt at humor fell flat and Castiel let his hand fall just to the side of the keyboard, Dean paused. He scrubbed his hand over face and drew in a deep breath. And idea caught in his head and he considering not following through with it at first. But then whatever was bothering Castiel was important, and Dean didn’t want to let it just slide.

He got up and made his way around to the other side of the bed, opposite the keyboard. He hitched his hip up on to the bed, then the rest of his body. He stretched out on his side on the hospital bed, pressed alongside Castiel. Dean propped his elbow up on Castiel’s pillow and then gave Cas a very rude poke to Castiel’s chest.

“C’mon Cas. Who are you gonna trust if not me?” Dean tried to sound like a supportive friend, but in truth he was getting a little annoyed. They were best friends right? Dean told Cas everything now…. Well, just about everything. Dean kept the pesky naughty thoughts he had about Cas to himself. But everything else he shared openly with Cas.

Castiel made his old annoyed “Stop it” signal on the bed with the hand near the keyboard. In reply, Dean mimicked the signal, only he did it on Castiel’s chest, right above Cas’ heart. Castiel huffed and moved his hand to the keyboard but didn’t begin typing.

Dean held still and waited.

Finally Castiel began typing, “Just left Air Force. Wanted to road trip. Route 66.” Castiel paused a moment, then began typing again. “Started in Chicago. Went St Louis.” Castiel hesitated only briefly as if he was trying to find the words he wanted to use next, “Kansas looks like the Shire.”

Dean chuckled and began to relax a little.

“Stopped one night. Went to bar. Nice place.” Castiel typed. “Met guy. Flirted.”

Dean stilled, unprepared for the small flare of envy that had sprung up inside him at hearing Castiel tell him that.

Castiel continued, “Things….” A paused, “heated. Sexual.”

Dean swallowed and tried to hide all the things circling inside his head. Castiel had picked up a guy at a bar. They had never discussed their sexual orientations in any of their talks and Dean had just figured Cas was straight, or not into sex at all. It had never once come up in their talks.

“We left. Took my car. Drove to reservoir.” Castiel stopped and Dean could now see that Castiel’s hand was shaking. “We were…..in back seat. Men came.”

When Dean could feel Castiel’s hand next to his arm begin to tremble, Dean pulled it against his chest and held it tightly.

“Pulled us from car. My date fled… ran off…” Castiel kept typing but Dean could see that it was difficult for Cas to get this out. “Men beat me. Called me faggot. Kept kicking me.”

“Cas….” Dan’s voice broke and he gripped Castiel’s hand so tight his knuckles almost went white. While he had enjoyed seeing men, it had always been a hidden thing. He had never been bold enough to pick up a guy in the open. It was always sly traded glances. A secretive nod and then meeting up someplace out of sight. He had never dated a man openly like he had done with girls. And the things Castiel was telling him now was one of the reasons why.

“Dumped me in my car. Pushed car over the edge road. Into water.” Castiel was down to using one finger now, unable to do much more. “Was near dead. Woke here.”

Dean glanced away from the keyboard and Castiel’s fingers to look at Castiel’s face. The bandages along his cheeks and over his eyes were showing dark wet spots.

Castiel was crying.

Dean didn’t even think. He just moved, wrapping his body against Castiel’s in an awkward hug. The arm that had clasped Cas’ hand was now curled around Castiel’s head, drawing Cas as close to Dean as possible. And Dean just held on as Castiel shook softly with unheard sobs. He had been holding that story in, keeping it his dark secret and only now in the safety of Dean’s arms did Castiel feel he could let it out. Let it be told.

Dean stayed there, and when Missouri came to shoo Dean out to go home she was met with such a defiant glare from Dean she merely turned down the lights and shut the door behind her.

Dean stayed that night holding Castiel and refused to move until dawn the next day.

 

 

 

~*~

 

 

 

After that night Castiel’s progress began to increase by leaps and bounds. Physical therapists came now, helping Castiel relearn to use his arms and legs. A speech therapist came and Castiel began to be able to speak with more ease. But most of all, Cas asked to start seeing someone to begin working through the trauma of his assault he had suffered.

And Dean was there at his side as much as he was allowed.

Halloween came and Dean dressed as a mummy, wrapped in bandages so Cas wouldn’t be the only one wearing them.

Thanksgiving came, and Sam was home from school. They had Thanksgiving dinner in Castiel’s room, and Cas was able to eat puréed turkey, cranberry sauce and mashed potatoes. Dean grimaced when he had to feed Cas puréed pumpkin from the pie. But Castiel didn’t care. It was his first meal in years that hadn’t been fed to him through a tube into his stomach.

And then it was Christmas Eve.

Sam wasn’t able to get a flight back until Christmas Day, so this left Dean on his own. He roamed through the hospital in a crooked weathered Santa hat he had snagged off Bobby’s head at the garage. He whistled as he went, passing out candy canes to the staff and patients. By the time he reached Castiel’s room, Dean was brimming with uncharacteristic holiday cheer.

Only he walked in to find Castiel’s room empty. For a half second he almost shouted at Cas to quit fooling around and come out of hiding, but then Cas couldn’t walk much less hide in the closet or under the bed. Then it hit Dean just how tidy the bed was, crisp sheets and blanket tucked taut and neat as if the occupant had left permanently. As if waiting for the next patient to arrive.

Dean’s knees almost buckled. Was Cas gone?! Did something happen? Was there a set back? The story of Castiel’s panic attack where he had stopped breathing flashed through Dean’s head and suddenly Dean’s heart stopped.

He slowly pulled the Santa hat off his head as he swallowed hard.

“You look like someone just shot your dog….” Balthazar was at Dean’s shoulder now, his voice his usual slightly condescending tone.

Dean whirled around to face Balthazar, his face obviously stricken.

Balthazar rolled his eyes and sighed, “Please. If something had happened to Cassie don’t you think we would have phoned you?”

Dean swallowed hard again and dropped his eyes. Of course. All the nurses had his contact information. With no next of kin for Castiel to call, even though Dean had no legal rights, the staff would at least inform Dean if something awful happened to Cas.

“Sorry.” Dean kept his eyes anywhere but with Balthazar.

“Ugh. Why do I like you so much Winchester?” Balthazar placed a careful hand on Dean’s upper back between his shoulder blades and he began to guide Dean down the hall, farther along that wing than Dean had ever gone. “Oh yes. I remember. Cassie likes you. And you are rather a good chap… when you aren’t being a pain in my arse.”

“Where is Castiel?” Dean managed, Santa hat still clutched in his hands.

“Tut. Silence. No talking.” Balthazar held up one finger, “Also, from this point you’ve got to close your eyes.”

“You gotta be kidding me….” Dean made a sour face. “Seriously?”

Balthazar’s only response was to raise one brow and look at Dean stoically. Dean sighed, rolled his eyes but then complied. He closed his eyes and allowed Balthazar to guide him the rest of the way.

When Balthazar brought Dean to a stop, Dean could hear Christmas music playing, as if it was coming from an old record player. Balthazar leaned close and very quietly he whispered for Dean to open his eyes.

Dean did.

And he was met with a wonderful sight.

Castiel was seated in a wheel chair, upright, on his own with a huge grin shining bright on his face. He had a green Christmas blanket over his legs, and he was wearing one of the most hideous Christmas sweaters Dean had ever seen on another human being. The day room they were in was decorated with boughs of pine and wreaths, glittering gold ornaments and hundreds of tiny little lights. Beside Cas was a table, all laid out with dinner, complete with candle centerpiece. Everything looked as if it had been cobbled together from things stolen from around the hospital, and the food was served on the hospital trays as usual, but Dean barely noticed.

Cas was up out of bed.

“When did this happen? Today?” Dean was kneeling in front Cas instantly, his hands coming to rest lightly against Castiel’s on the arm rests of the wheel chair.

“No.” Castiel smiled and spoke using his own deep voice, “Been working at it. Therapy remember?”

Dean’s smile amped up brighter, “You wanted to surprised me.”

“So astute Dean. How did I ever pull this off without you finding out?” With Castiel’s voice and speech came Castiel’s sarcasm, and Dean had loved seeing this aspect of Cas’ personality come out.

“Better check your snark Cas or Santa won’t leave you anything in your stocking.” Dean pulled on an overly serious face as he slipped the Santa hat on his head.

“And Santa’s dinner is getting cold.” Castiel lifted one hand and gestured in the direction of the table next to him.

Dean stood up and pushed Castiel to the table, situating him as if Dean would feed him like they had done at Thanksgiving. But when Dean reached for the spoon, Castiel’s hand reached out and stopped him.

“Cas?”

“Just sit down Dean.” Castiel said gently.

Dean took his seat, and then sat wide-eyed as Castiel slowly began to peel off the bandages from his head.

“Cas…. Uh, are you allowed to do that?” Dean began to get out of his seat.

“It’s fine Dean. Had them off before.” Castiel kept unwinding them and more of his dark hair stuck out as he did. “Wanted to save this… for tonight.”

Slowly Dean sat down. He was suddenly very nervous. The whole time Cas had known him, he had been blinded and needed the bandages over his eyes. And now Cas was taking them off so he could look at Dean for the very first time. And for the first time, Dean was truly nervous about how Cas might judge his appearance. Would Cas like what he saw?

“So you… you um…. You’ve had the bandages off before?” Dean fought the urge to fidget with the Santa hat.

“Yes. Part of my therapy to get my vision back. Everything is still fuzzy far away and the doctors don’t know if I will ever see well enough to fly again but….” Castiel fingered away the last pieces of the bandages and then just rested his hands on the table. His fingers still clutched the gauze tightly however and his eyes stayed closed.

For a moment Dean just lost himself as he looked on Cas’ full face, uncovered and unobstructed for the very first time.

Castiel was beautiful.

The chin Dean had come to know was flanked by a firm jaw line dusted with a dark five-o-clock shadow, and dark long lashes rested at the crests of Castiel’s strong cheekbones.

Very slowly Castiel’s eyes fluttered open and blinked a few times, adjusting to the light in the room.

And then Dean couldn’t breathe. The bright blue hue of Castiel’s irises were one of the most glorious things Dean had ever seen in his whole life.

“Dean…” the name slipped from Castiel’s lips like a soft prayer and it knocked Dan out of his daze.

“Your eyes are so green…” Castiel’s eyes were wide and astonished, and then a shy smile hinted up on his face, “And the freckles….”

Dean dropped his gaze to his food as he felt his cheeks bloom with heat, “Food’s uh, getting’ cold Cas.” He couldn’t hide the awkwardness from his voice. He also couldn’t hide the little smile growing on his face either.

“Yes… of course.” One could hear the smile in Castiel’s voice now as he carefully picked up his spoon and began to feed himself.

Dean halted in mid grab of his fork when he realized that Castiel didn’t need assistance to eat. Then Dean’s smile went wider. They spent the meal talking about Sam coming home, about Castiel’s therapy, about Dean’s work. But Dean was beside himself and had to keep from tearing up as he watched his friend eat his meal by himself, conquering another big obstacle in his recovery.

When dinner was over, they sat next to each other and watched ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’ on a small old dying TV set and when that was done, Castiel asked Dean to put another record on.

“Sure you aren’t tired out Cas?” Dean queried and he shuffled through the old vinyl record sleeves.

“I’m fine.” Then Castiel looked down to his hands shyly, “Would you… would you dance with me?”

Dean looked up quickly and couldn’t hide the flush that came to his cheeks. Castiel was still looking down at his hands, his fingers tugging slightly at the edges of his sweater sleeves.

“Ugh, yea sure…. “ Dean ducked his head and hid the little smile that was playing on his face now. He felt a bit giddy. Cas wanted to dance with him. He pulled an old Frank Sinatra record from the small stack, and placed the record on the player. He didn’t wait for Frank’s voice to come crooning out of the speakers. He went right over to Cas.

Gingerly he bent forward to place his hands on the armrests of Cas’ wheelchair. Then he began to slowly walk in random slow movements, back and forth, then in a circle, pulling and tugging the chair and Castiel with his hands as he went.

Castiel brought his hands up to curl over Dean’s, holding them there warmly. He peeked at Dean, a small boyish smile on his face as they moved together. Dean’s eyes were bright with cheer, and his cheeks still rosy. And when Cas ducked his head down again, Dean leaned in further to rest one of those rosy cheeks against the side of Castiel’s head.

They swayed and rolled like that, not speaking and not needing to until the record played out and the music stopped.

Dean ceased moving, but he didn’t pull away. His voice was barely above a whisper when he spoke, “Do you want your present now Cas?”

“I already have my Christmas gift Dean.” Castiel whispered back. “We danced. That’s all I wanted.”

Dean pressed closer, his lips ghosting against Castiel’s ear. “Is that what you asked Santa for?”

Castiel lifted his head and pulled back, leaning so he could look Dean in the eyes. He was about to speak when he saw Dean’s gaze shift from staring at his eyes to a lingering look at his lips.

Dean didn’t hide it, couldn’t hide it. They were so close and Castiel’s big blue eyes were on him and Castiel’s mouth was right there and Dean… well Dean suddenly decided there was only one thing he really wanted for Christmas. And he needed to do something about it before his old fears of rejection and inadequacy kicked in.

Castiel held very very still, “What did you ask Santa for?”

“Mistletoe.” Dean kept his eyes on Castiel’s mouth.

“Like this?” Castiel slowly pulled a small sprig of the plant out from under the blanket draped over his legs.

Dean’s eyes darted once to the Mistletoe, then once to look Cas in the eye and then they went back to Cas’ lips. “Yes. Like that. Exactly like that.”

“Hold still.” Ever so carefully Castiel lifted one hand up holding the Mistletoe. He brought it as high as he could and as far over Dean’s head as he could reach. Then Cas licked his lips.

Dean gripped into the arms of the wheelchair and closed his eyes. There was a long hesitating pause and then Castiel was leaning up, erasing the distance between them. Castiel’s dry somewhat chapped lips were meeting Dean’s and at first it was a light peck. Castiel gave off a small gasp and then stretched more, pressing up against Dean’s mouth. And as that happened, they both parted their lips ever so slightly so they could have a taste of each other. A heartbeat later the kiss was deepening as Dean leaned down, melting into Cas as Cas opened up for him more.

Soon Dean was braced over the wheelchair and Castiel’s hands were running through Dean’s hair and they weren’t even bothering to breathe until it was an absolute must.

Later when Balthazar came to collect Castiel and get him back into his room, he found them still tangled together; Dean was on his knees in front of Cas, and Cas was bent half way out of his chair. They were making out like teenagers.

Balthazar turned on his heel and made his exit. He could wait. It was Christmas after all.

 

 

 

~*~

 

 

  
**Halloween, five years later:**

Dean was on his knees, ducked and bent over as he rummaged through the bottom back of his closet. He pulled out a box, opened it, looked through it, then closed it and shoved it aside. He pulled out another box, opened it and then made a loud noise of triumph. He reached inside and pulled out a pair of old aviator sunglasses.

“We’re going to be late to Bobby’s party….” Castiel’s voice came from the doorway to the walk in closet.

With a bright grin Dean looked up at Cas.

Cas was standing, leaning on the doorframe, one hand planted on his lean hip while the other hung at his side. The dangling hand was holding his old flight helmet, and Cas was wearing his old USAF flight suit, complete with his boots. He had aviator sunglasses on and Dean decided right there that he was looking at the single most sexy thing on the whole planet.

“Maverick, you are giving me some serious Top Gun style porn ideas you know that?” Dean wiggled his brows as he stood up. He too was wearing a form fitting flight suit that accentuated the hard planes of his body.

“Why do you think I wanted you dressed as Iceman?” The edge of Castiel’s lip curled up in a lewd smile.

Dean stepped up close, into Castiel’s personal space and gently leaned in to kiss Castiel long and deep.

Castiel’s recovery had been hard and there had been set backs, but Dean had been there for, literally, every step of it. One of Dean’s favourite memories now was of Castiel first walking as he took his first steps across the threshold of their little house after they bought it. Every day put Cas back towards his old fit and fully healthy self, and Cas had even begun taking steps to find the men who had hurt him, to see that they met justice.

The two of them had settled into a great life together, and Dean could not ask for more.

Dean pulled back from the kiss, but not back away from Cas. “We could stay here, run some, heh, flight stimulations….”

Castiel rolled his eyes a little at Dean’s play on words, “The neighborhood kids will know we are here and want your candy stash…..” Castiel reached up to cup Dean’s jaw and let his thumb caress along Dean’s stubble, “How about instead, we go to Bobby’s party… and I tease you ruthlessly through the night with naughty looks and well placed gropes when no one is looking….”

Dean groaned a little and shifted where he stood.

“And then in a fit of sexual frenzy we can go out and hide in the back seat of the Impala and….” Castiel leaned in to let his lips sweeten over Dean’s ear as he whispered about all the pleasurable things he would do to Dean later.

“Cas…..” Dean moaned out. He was never going to make it through this party alive. “Your mouth…..”

Castiel smiled, pecked Dean on the lips once and then began to saunter away. “Aren’t you glad you’re the one who taught me how to use it again?”

Dean was indeed very very happy he had.

 

 

~fin~


End file.
